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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25951537">My Body Is A--</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsagiStilinski/pseuds/AsagiStilinski'>AsagiStilinski</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Small Town, Arguing, Ballet, Ballet Dancer Yuri Plisetsky, Established Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, First Relationship, Homophobia, Light Angst, M/M, Meet-Cute, Secrets, Small Towns, Sort Of, Summer</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 07:41:53</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>17,337</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25951537</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AsagiStilinski/pseuds/AsagiStilinski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>All Yuri wanted to do was get to New York, just... train under one of the best ballerinas in generations and then get to New York</p>
<p>He never imagined something- or someone- would come along who would be just as important as that</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov, Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>53</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>My Body Is A--</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/venom_for_free/gifts">venom_for_free</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Birthday fic for Venom! &lt;3 I was trying to go for a Richard Siken vibe but I don't think it really worked ^^;</p>
<p>The title and lyrics are from "My Body Is A Cage" by Peter Gabriel</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>The only sound between them was rain tapping on the roof of the car, thunder rolling in the distance, the windsheild wipers swiping back and forth, and the low hum of music that neither of them had chosen that played on the radio</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But it was so loud</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was deafening</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>These things, these quiet things, were enough to drive them both deaf, because with such quiet things around them it made their thoughts so much louder</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So loud that there was no escaping them</span>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Six weeks earlier</b>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Fuck this shit..."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was unfathomable to him that he'd come all the way from Russia to attend a dance academy in the middle of fucking nowhere</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This wasn't New York or L.A., there were no big city lights or screaming blasts of energy, nothing that remotely defined this place as being desirable for more than, perhaps, an armadillo</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri couldn't imagine that one of the most famous ballerinas in the world taught at some small, under-thirty-students, one-level building, in the middle of a tiny town that seemed to be perpetually stuck thirty years behind the rest of the world</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He had actually seen the guy at the last bus stop using a </span>
  <em>
    <span>flip phone</span>
  </em>
  <span>..... </span>
  <em>
    <span>yeeeeeesh.</span>
  </em>
  <span>.....</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He couldn't believe he'd decided to spend the next two months here, gone from a prestigious school in St. Petersberg to this American shit-hole, lured in by the promise of being taught under Lilia Bavinskya, and for what?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Where would this get him? What would he become?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He'd go back to St. Petersberg in August and be seven years behind all of the students who had stayed there, he just fucking knew it</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The "academy" was a five-minute walk from a cheap diner that had one of it's neon letters blown out so it just said fucking "</span>
  <b>DI ER</b>
  <span>"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Dire</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That's how he felt, like his life was in dire circumstances to have lead him here</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He wasn't wrong</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He was freshly 18, just graduated highschool, if he didn't get a job dancing in the very near future, he'd have to give up on it all together and do some other shit work he would hate to support himself and his grandfather</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That was why</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That was why he was there, standing in the middle of the desert, with dust settling on his shorts and feeling like the entire town was staring at him, the blonde with the big mouth, with long hair and a pink top, who was mistaken for a girl by everyone he'd met so far until he actually spoke to them</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He felt stripped down and bare before the town full of strangers- full of idiots- and he was doing it all with pursed lips and determination because it was the last hope he had of making his life worth something</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He sucked in a breath of dry air and tightened his grip on his backpack, then marched forward, towards the school</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>~+~</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His first lesson at the academy was like bootcamp, and despite all of his years of dancing, he left aching in ways he had never thought possible before</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The cheap building and nowhere location were a clever illusion, hiding the real diamond in the rough that was Lilia's school</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Part of him thought she did this as a test, hide the diamond, see who would actually be determined enough- or crazy enough- to come all the way out to Asscrack Nowheresville and actually look for it</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Who was too spoiled and privileged to bother, and who was just desperate enough to try</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He had heard once on a radio show in Russia, on his way to one of his lessons when he was nine- </span>
  <em>
    <span>"Only the desperate ones are worth the effort, true talent comes from having nothing else to hold onto"</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He must be talented then, because he hadn't had anything else to hold onto since he was three</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was raining by the time he left the academy, and Yuri was without an umbrella</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was no way in hell he'd wait for the bus in the middle of a downpour, so he decided to jog across to the diner, getting drenched the entire way and sliding on the cracked tile floor as he swung inside</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The air conditioner was freezing, and even though it was summer and it was hot out, he felt like it was more than a little over-zealous</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The diner was empty, almost, except for three other people</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>An old man sat lonely in the corner eating a peice of pie, a middle-aged woman sat at the counter taking up two seats with a plate of food off to the side and what looked like an explosion of pappers scattered around her immediate area, and a young man sat on the opposite side of the room with coffee and his nose buried in a book</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The counter- where Yuri would have usually sat- was out of the question, not wanting to deal with being too close to someone who was clearly trying to save the entire damn area for herself</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The side of the room with the old man was struck too, he just seemed a little too lonely and a little too much like Yuri's grandfather and the teenager couldn't handle any reminders of home right now, especially not any that might weigh on his heart</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So the bookworm's side it was then</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Usually he'd seek out a place where he could be entirely alone, but something just didn't sit right with him when he thought of sitting at one of the tables far away from everyone else, like he was isolating himself too much, like... like he would draw too much attention</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And Yuri liked attention to a certain point but there was good attention and bad attention, right attention and wrong attention, and sometimes bad attention just wasn't worth everything that would come from it</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So instead he slid into the booth directly behind the bookworm, he ordered coffee and waited for the waitress to leave before squeezing the excess water out of his clothes, set his dance bag in the corner and pulled his phone out of the inside pouch, glad that it, atleast, was dry</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He was actually surprised that there was even any service in a shithole like this, but he supposed cell phone service existed everywhere now except in horror movies</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ughh... what he wouldn't give to see a good movie....</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But he was using all of his savings just on rent, food, and basic needs like bus fair and his phone upkeep, he couldn't afford to splurge, and he didn't have time to watch anything anyway, with all the practice he had to get in</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Still, he told himself, he couldn't dance 24/7, and he could probably afford a really cheap bargain movie if it was under $5...</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Hey, Leather Jacket," he called, successfully grabbing the attention of Bookworm, the brunette glancing up from the pages long enough to look over his shoulder at Yura</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You know where I can get really cheap movies?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"There's a Walmart about two miles from here with a $3.75 bin, it actually has some pretty good stuff,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Really?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>$3.75 he could do, that was only a little more expensive than the coffee he had just ordered, it wasn't bad</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Where is it?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It's just off of Route 90, you can't miss it,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Unfortunately for Bookworm, Yuri was unfamiliar with any such road, and only stared blankly in response</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Quietly, the other man sighed, rubbing the back of his neck</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I take it you’re new around here?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Was it that obvious?" Yuri replied flatly, one eyebrow raising</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"When the rain lets up, I'll show you where it is, you can follow me,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Good theory, except...</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't have a car,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"...Bike?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Nope,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri was actually a little surprised by how surprised the stranger seemed, though he supposed it made sense, a town this small didn't really have taxis or a booming uber service, the only public transportation seemed to be one solitary bus and it was never particularly full</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I could take you," the stranger finally said</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"There's a bus stop near there, I'm sure you could catch your bus without a problem,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>If there was one thing Yuri had learned in his young life, it was that nothing was free</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was no such thing as a selfless good deed, everyone wanted you for something, everything came at a price, so what must this jerk be charging for his services?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p><span>"Yeah, I'm going to get in a car with some stranger I just met, in a town I'm new to, and hike down to a place I'm unfamiliar with, that doesn't sound like the beginnings of a </span><em><span>death march</span></em> <b>at all,</b><span>"</span></p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"...Bike," the stranger said after a beat</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Excuse me?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't have a car, I have a motorcycle, so.... bike, not car,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh that makes it all better,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The stranger only shrugged, turning back to his coffee and his book as Yuri's own coffee arrived</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>......</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dammit, why did he feel lonely all of a sudden?!</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The rain continued pouring outside, washing down the windows in sheets, blanketing the place in a ripple of white and preventing Yuri from seeing much of anything outside</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Damn</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I have a nife," Yuri noted suddenly, drawing the stranger's attention again</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm sorry?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"If you try anything, I have a nife, I'll gut you like a fucking fish, I'm also a blackbelt, so don't,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ok, the last part was a lie, but no one had to know that</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Ok," the stranger said simply, taking a sip of his coffee</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And for a moment, Yuri just assumed that would be it, the end of the conversation, until-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Is that why you take ballet?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oh, maybe not</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Huh?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Is that why you take ballet? Because of your martial arts?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh uh.... no, I'm a dancer,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, ok,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A pause, quiet, and then-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"How'd you know I take ballet?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I saw you come in earlier, from that direction, back before the rain was this bad, and you have a Bolshoi Ballet bag,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eyes widening a little, Yuri glanced down on instinct and confirmed that, yes, his bag's logo was in Crylic</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You speak Russian?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm Kazakh,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>For the first time since leaving home, Yuri actually felt something like.... kinship, as though there was just a tiny bit of home here with him</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He hadn't met anyone else who spoke Russian since his flight landed, not other than Lilia anyway, he wasn't even sure if this armpit of a town </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> any foreigners other than himself and, apparently, now Bookworm, who definitely needed a better name</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Without ceremony, he slid out of his booth, grabbed his bag and coffee, and invited himself to slink into the seat across from the brunette</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm Yuri Plisetsky," he introduced cheerfully, attitude taking a major shift as he held his hand out for the stranger</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>For a breif moment, the other man hesitated, before sliding his bookmark in place, putting his book down, and taking Yuri's hand</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Otabek Altin,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Otabek's grip was strong and firm, giving a light shake before pulling back, leaving Yuri wanting more</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What the fuck are you doing in this shitty little town? You're a long ass way from Kazakhstan,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"And you're quite a long way from Russia," Otabek pointed out, sipping his coffee</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Well yeah but you already know what I'm doing here, I'm a dancer, the best ballerina in the world is teaching at the academy down the road, but what's your story?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Long," Otabek replied simply, catching Yuri off-guard</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Huh?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"My story, it's long, I don't think it'd be very interesting,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Somehow, Yuri just didn't believe that, but if Otabek didn't want to share, then that was ok, Yuri wasn't going to force him, Mila may have always teased him by saying he was a goblin but he wasn't </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> kind of goblin</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh... ok, uh you have a motorcycle? That's so cool!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Thanks, it's outside but..."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But ofcourse with the rain continuing to pour like this, Yuri couldn't exactly see it</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oh well, he'd see it later</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Right, I'm guessing it wasn't pouring like this when you got here?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A shake of Otabek's head was the only answer Yuri got, but he wasn't discouraged</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Do you ride alot?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, since I was fourteen and started borrowing a freind's at home,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Wow.... do you have a spare helmet? For.. later, I mean, when we go to Walmart,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oh, that actually made Otabek smirk just a tiny bit</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I thought you were afraid of going with a stranger,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Ok first of all, I wasn't afraid, got it? I'm </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> afraid,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A blatant lie</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Second</span>
  </em>
  <span> of all, we're not strangers anymore so it's fine, we're freinds now, right?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>For just a moment, Otabek was quiet again, and Yuri worried that he had worn out his welcome already, but...</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, we're freinds,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Perfect</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"And no, no spare helmet, but you can use mine,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Isn't that illegal? To ride without a helmet? ..N-Not that I care ofcourse!! It's your own life and you can do whatever the fuck you want! I just mean.... I don't want you to get arrested on my account,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>For another moment, Otabek was quiet, before sipping his coffee again</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"That isn't the kind of thing I'd get arrested for here,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>..What the fuck kind of vague response was </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, then... cool! Have you uh... been here long?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This time, the silence actually came with a purpose, Otabek seemingly trying to decide if he had, in fact, been there for a long time or not</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, I guess I have,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Do you know alot of people?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"No, not really,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Not much of a talker huh?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"How could you tell?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri's smile was so bright, it practically lit up the room, happy to get what he considered to be a playfull response from the other man</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, I get that, I'm not much of a people person either, people suck,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"They really do,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't really have alot of freinds or anything either, and plus, you know, with ballet, I wouldn't really have time for them anyway, even if I wanted them,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Mm.... then, I take it you want to be a professional dancer?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri's heart practically did a somersault, the first time Otabek asked him anything since he changed seats, clearly this conversation wasn't as one-sided as it may have originally felt</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah I do! My dream is to dance in New York! I mean, don't get me wrong, Bolshoi would be great too, I love that place, but.... there's nothing like New York,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Because New York had so much more than just dancing, New York had culture that Yuri couldn't get in Russia, New York had &lt;i&gt;freedom&lt;/i&gt;</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Are you going to to the Bolshoi New York Academy?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri's shoulders sank, his smile dropping and his expression downturned for the first time since sitting down at the booth</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"No...."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That was far too expensive, he had only just barely managed to afford the living expenses for staying here, but living expenses in New York, plus over $4,000 for tuition...</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was out of the question</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't care though, studying under Lilia is a thousand times better, and she chooses one student every year to give a recommendation for to a couple of dance companies, one of them is the New York City Ballet!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That was the other reason he had to be extra carefull with money, if he got called to New York for an audition, he'd have to afford expenses there for atleast a few days, longer if he actually got to join the company, he didn't have a credit card yet either, but if he got accepted to the company, maybe he could get one, put his starting-out expenses on it and then pay it off with his paychecks...</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Thinking about it though, he was reminded just how much he needed to save money, how hard he had worked for every cent he had to get here and to go further, his "If New York happens" stash was so thin, was it really worth it to put four dollars on some cheap movie instead of into that account?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>....But....</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That four dollars was now also his excuse to spend more time with Otabek, and he didn't want to lose that...</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"That's really great, I hope you get it,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri smiled a bit wearily, nodding in agreement</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Thanks, me too,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With the subject seeming dead and not wanting to dwell on his hopes and fears for the future, Yuri turned his attention to the book currently resting next to Otabek, eyes quickly scanning the cover- a shark eating a T-Rex, looked.... interesting</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Cool looking book, what is it?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Otabek's gaze also followed, landing breifly on the cover</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>Meg: A Novel Of Deep Terror,</span>
  </em>
  <span> it's the book version of that Jason Statham movie from two years back,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Hm, never heard of it, what's it about?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Megalodons living in the Marianna Trench, one of them ends up getting loose and terrorizing people,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oooh ok so like a scientifically more accurate JAWS?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"...Mmm.... sort of yes, sort of no, depends alot on how you look at the term 'scientifically more accurate',"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It sounds cool though," Yuri grinned</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Do you like it so far?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Mm, I suppose so, I already saw the movie so I'm really only reading it so I can read the other books in the series,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Can't you just start book two then? I mean, if you saw the movie already,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"No, like all adaptations there are bound to be some big differences between the book and the movie, I don't want to come across something in the next book that confuses me, and I don't want to wait on the rest of the series to be adapted as films,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Impatient huh?" Yuri teased, a small grin playing on his features</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"A bit," Otabek smirked back, and oh god, oh &lt;i&gt;god&lt;/i&gt;, Yuri would kill a man for that smirk, the things that expression did to him, the way it made his heart race and his skin flush....</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"So um... big sci-fi fan?" he guessed</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Not especially, I just like to read,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Me too, I just... don't really... get the chance too often,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dancing was a life style, not a sport, not a career, it was something you either do only as a hobby and never expect to take you anywhere, or you throw your entire self into it and abandon everything else, there wasn't an in-between</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri couldn't remember the last time he read a book</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Got any recommendations for me? Ya' know, if I ever get the chance to read again,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Otabek actually seemed to think that over for a short wile, leaning back and staring across the room at nothing in particular, searching his mind for something</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>And Then There Was Oz</span>
  </em>
  <span> by A.M. Amir,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What's it about?" Yuri asked curiously, though if he had to guess, it had something to do with The Wizard Of Oz</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It's a fictionalized autobiography about how the author met his partner, and about how they had both been.... stuck, I guess, in these lives they had ended up in that neither of them really wanted, and when they meet eachother, it's like... they both take a journey to discovering eachother but also who they really want to be, it's told through a series of fantasy metaphors and some parts are told through his partner's perspective, they worked together on it, each chapter is like a different story of fantasy lands- Wonderland, Neverland, but Oz is the most recurring theme, it's really interesting and heartwarming and the way it's written..... it's just.... it's really very good,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wow, that was.... alot to take in</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri hadn't even been sure Otabek was capable of saying that many words at once, considering how many of his responses up until now had consisted of less than a full sentence</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But good to know, the way to this man's heart was through books</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Not that Yuri was looking to get to his heart though, he didn't even have time for a boyfreind, even if he wanted one, and if he wanted one or not was.... still a question of it's own</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But he did want a </span>
  <em>
    <span>freind</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A freind-freind, without the gender-specific, romance-implying tag in front of it</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe they could be freinds</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He did have time for just </span>
  <em>
    <span>one</span>
  </em>
  <span> freind........ right?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm sorry," Otabek said something, catching Yuri's attention</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I... get really passionate about books so I-.... I talk about them alot,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"No no no! I like it!" Yuri insisted quickly, a soft smile on his features</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Please, keep going?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>~+~</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The rain hadn't let up for another two hours, and when it finally did, Otabek regretfully informed Yuri that he had to leave for work, he was already cutting it close to being late as it was, and he still had to go by his apartment and change, there'd be no time for Walmart today</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri brushed off his concerns with a casual "Next time", but it wasn't until Otabek had already left- and, much to Yuri's surprise, paid for &lt;i&gt;both&lt;/i&gt; of their coffees too- that he realized, agonizingly, that they hadn't exchanged numbers</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri went to bed angry at himself that night</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>~+~</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Classes the next day were brutal</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri pushed himself so hard to be the best, to be the stand-out, to be the one everyone was watching, that by the time he left, his legs were shaking</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He had managed to outdo his previous personal bests atleast, and he was pretty sure that Lilia's eyes were on him for atleast </span>
  <em>
    <span>most</span>
  </em>
  <span> of the class, so it was worth it</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The sky was clear when he trudged to the bus stop, but he decided against getting on right away, instead, he made his way to the diner, perking up with delight when he spotted Otabek seated at the same booth from the day before, </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Trench</span>
  </em>
  <span> nestled in his hands, coffee set out in front of him</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"So you finished the first one?" he asked, sliding into the seat across from his new freind</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Otabek glanced up, bookmarking the papperback, and giving Yuri a simple nod</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Is that the sequel?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Another nod</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Any good?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, after this one it starts getting a little Jurassic Park-ish, wich I'm actually looking forward to,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oooh, dino fan huh? I can relate,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Well.... yes, but I'm more a fan of the moral side of Jurassic Park, the commentary on humanity, that it always tries to control everything, including nature, and that eventually, it comes back to bite them,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, yeah, that's my favorite part too!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Actually Yuri was just a really big fan of dinosaurs, but Otabek didn't have to know that</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Last I recall, I promised you a trip to Walmart, are you still up for it?" Otabek asked suddenly, bringing a bright smile to Yuri's face, his eyes lighting up as though stars were shining in them</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah! Absolutely, let's go!!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He ignored the fact that when he stood up, it felt like a sledge hammer was being hit against his legs, ignored the way the soles of his feet burned and the unsteadiness he felt in his body, how badly he wanted to lay down, he ignored all of it and pushed himself excitedly out of the diner, Otabek trailing behind him</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He rushed to the only motorcycle there and paused suddenly, staring down at the two helmets perched on the handlebars</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Otabek lifted one of them up and gave it to Yuri without comment, and Yuri said nothing as he eagerly strapped it on and climbed onto the bike behind his new freind</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>~+~</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>For a week it continued like that in perfect rhythm</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri would find himself at the diner after classes, usually have no more than a cup of coffee- wich Otabek kept paying for, neither of them ever actually talking about it- and the two of them talking for hours on end</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>About books, about people, about </span>
  <em>
    <span>life</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri had managed to find a copy of </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Meg</span>
  </em>
  <span> in the $3.49 bin at Walmart but was always so wiped when he got back from the diner that he'd yet to have a chance to watch it</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Over the course of the week Yuri found himself talking to Otabek about more than he had ever talked to anyone else, he talked about dancing, about his family, about his hopes and dreams, his fears and anxieties, he talked himself blue and talked until his throat went dry, and Otabek listened intently to every single word as if he needed to remember every lasting detail in the case of a pop quiz</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Otabek, however, only really talked about books</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>In that week, Yuri couldn't pull much out of him other than the fact that he was from Almaty, loved music as much as books, and loved his bike</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That was it</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Nothing about family, nothing about a job or a career, nothing about the future, nothing </span>
  <em>
    <span>personal</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri left every conversation feeling like he had just talked Otabek's ear off and yet not given him the same consideration, but that wasn't entirely true</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Over the length of that week, he learned more about books and music than he ever thought possible, and he could probably recite entire book-jacket blurbs from memory by that point, it was just the </span>
  <em>
    <span>personal </span>
  </em>
  <span>information that he continuously found running on empty</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The next Monday, exactly a week after meeting Otabek, it rained again, as though nature was on some sort of schedule</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When he arrived at the diner, the skies were clear, it wasn't until they headed back to Yuri's apartment- a trend that had started last Tuesday, of Otabek taking Yuri home so he wouldn't have to spend the bus fair to get there- that the bottom fell out</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>By the time they got to the shitty building that Yuri was staying in, the rain was almost blinding</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You can't drive in this!" the blonde shouted over the sound of pouring rain and booming thunder</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'll be fine!" Otabek insisted loudly back</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Fuck that shit! Just come upstairs asshole! Or I'll kick your ass and drag you!!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That seemed to do the trick, Otabek reluctantly parked his bike and followed Yuri to the door, staying silent until they got inside</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Right, I wouldn't want to go up against a black belt," he noted, taking his helmet off</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Huh?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"A black belt? You? You said you'd kick my ass if I didn't follow you,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oh right.... Yuri had said he was a black belt when they first met last week....</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>.....</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eh, he'd confess the truth about that eventually, maybe, although it still sounded cool so maybe he'd just leave it alone</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah exactly, now come on," he added a second later, marching up the cold metal stairs towards his apartment with Otabek on his heels and thunder roaring outside</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"No elevator huh?" Otabek asked as they walked</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh we have an elevator, it's just been busted since I moved in,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>All the nights he had prayed for it to be fixed when he got home so he wouldn't have to drag his tired legs up two flights of unforgiving metal stairs, and yet his prayers had yet to be answered</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oh well, atleast the extra exercise was good for him, or so he told himself</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"That... really sucks,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah but what can you do?" Yuri shrugged back, leading Otabek up the stairs with only minimal effort and grabbing his key from his pocket</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It stuck in the lock, took three times of turning it before it finally worked, and he had to push the door open due to the air pressure from the rain causing the wood to swell</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But atleast his apartment didn't have any leaks and that was more than he could say for Mrs. Bellveiw upstairs</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Otabek followed him in, gazed around the apartment and it's generally messy nature with few personal touches, and then followed Yuri after the blonde kicked off his shoes and shut the door</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Here, we should dry off, how tall are you anyway? You oughtta get out of those wet clothes, you're not </span>
  <em>
    <span>too</span>
  </em>
  <span> much bigger than me so I should have something to fit you,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You really don't have to-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It's ok, I'm not going to be the cause of you catching a cold or something so just shut up,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Otabek pursed his lips as Yuri tossed a towel his way, grabbing another for himself before ducking suddenly out of the bathroom and making his way to the bedroom</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He changed quickly into something nicer than his post-dance clothes, tugging on a pair of skinny jeans, his Nirvana tank top, and his leopard print hoodie- because the rain had chilled him and he didn't want Otabek to see the goosebumps</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Plus it looked cool</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He also quickly looked for his biggest clothes, but mostly only managed to find the size-too-big stuff he slept in</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Oh well.... it would have to do</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ballet bag abandoned on his bedroom floor, he popped back into the bathroom and shoved a pair of ugly plaid pajama pants he'd gotten as a gift and his favorite faded Lion King t-shirt at Otabek</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Sorry, I think it's all I have that'll fit you,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't apologize, it's really more than fine,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri only nodded awkwardly, running his fingers through his damp hair as Otabek shrugged off his leather jacket</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Um, so... you can just uh... hang your stuff up over the shower to dry, oh! I've got hangers!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You don't-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It's fine!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Darting back into his bedroom, he snatched up a few hangers from the closet that he'd stripped earlier and rushed back to the bathroom, holding them out and being only a second away from announcing his presence, before suddenly pausing, taking in the sight before him</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Otabek had changed into the pants and was reaching for the shirt, his back to Yuri</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>His toned, scarred back</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The scars weren't.... </span>
  <em>
    <span>huge</span>
  </em>
  <span> or anything.... but they were noticeable, a few of them littered his skin, over his shoulder blade, down his side, above his hip...</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The shirt covered them a moment later and Yuri forced himself to speak</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Uh... hangers," he noted awkwardly, holding them out for him</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Otabek's eyebrows raised, a small nod of gratitude following as he gently took the hangers and started to shift his wet clothes onto them</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm gonna make some food, uh... I don't really have anything that's... fancy or anything... but I've got alot of microwave meals, you should come and pick something out,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yuri, you really don't have to-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>starving</span>
  </em>
  <span> ok? And I'm not going to eat without you, so shut it, and besides, after all the coffee you've been buying me for the past week, it's the literal </span>
  <em>
    <span>least</span>
  </em>
  <span> I could do,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A flicker of surprise flashed across his face, as though he hadn't actually expected Yuri to have noticed that he'd been getting free coffee for the last week, and Yuri resisted the urge to roll his eyes</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm not a charity case, got it? So if you're going to buy my coffee then I'm going to microwave you dinner once in a wile,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Otabek sighed quietly, his shoulders sagging, but a small nod following as he finished hanging his clothes up and followed Yuri out of the bathroom</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Forewarning that I don't have any of the good shit, it's all health shit," Yuri warned as he approached the freezer</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It's fine,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm actually not a bad cook, so it's a shame I can't just make my own food, but I've never got the energy, I'm always way too tired when I get back from classes, plus it's way too expensive to make fresh food, do you know how much it costs just to get a bag of tomatos? It's fucking highway robbery!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I understand, I like to cook too but... it's expensive and time consuming,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>...Were his ears deceiving him or had Otabek actually just willingly given him personal information?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah exactly," Yuri nodded, opening the freezer and sighing quietly to himself</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Damn.... he hadn't taken the opportunity last week to get more food when he went out with Otabek, so he was down to what he had left from the first day he spent in town...</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He'd have to go shopping tommorrow...</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Um, bad news, I've only got chicken and broccoli or chicken marinara... your choice wich you want though,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'll take the one with the chicken,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri only snorted at that, rolling his eyes as he started to unbox the frozen food</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"So you like to cook huh? What kinda stuff?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Mm, whatever I happen to come across, I'm really not picky, but... I do like experimenting, I've always liked exploring other cultures,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh yeah? That's neat, I'm a traditional Russian guy myself, blinis, varenniki, solyanka, kiev, but nothing- </span>
  <em>
    <span>nothing</span>
  </em>
  <span>- beats pirozhkis,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm a pretty big pirozhki fan myself," Otabek smiled softly, leaning back against the kitchen counter as he watched Yuri work</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Really?! Oh my god, some time before I leave I'm gonna have to make you my grandpa's pirozhkis, they're to DIE for,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Mm... yeah, before you leave," Otabek agreed quietly, looking down at the floor</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"When... is that, exactly?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Um, well... it's a six-week course soooo five weeks from now, ish? Give or take a few days,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Ah..... do you plan to go back to St. Petersberg after this?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Unless I get accepted to the New York ballet yeah, don't really have much choice,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What if you did?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri tilted his head, eyebrows raising</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Huh?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Otabek shook his head, clearing his throat</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Nothing, can I help with that?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri smiled a little, handing him one of the boxes</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Sure, peeling the plastic film off is alot of work," Yuri winked teasingly</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Well don't worry," Otabek smirked</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'll put some muscle into it,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>~+~</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Unexpectedly, the two of them fell asleep together on the couch that night, half-way through </span>
  <em>
    <span>The Meg</span>
  </em>
  <span>, with the remnants of their microwave dinners still on the coffee table</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yura woke first the next morning, sitting up slowly and nearly screaming from the pain in his back</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He was going to pay for that later, he knew</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But it was worth it, he'd been enduring pain for most of his life, what was a little more, a little longer, if it actually yeilded a reward?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He wouldn't change anything, he'd still have fallen asleep with Otabek on that couch if given the opportunity</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But....</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Glancing up at the clock on the wall, he squinted, attempting to read it, and wrinkling his nose at the time that stared back at him</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>11:28</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The sun was shining so it was obviously A.M., wich meant that-....</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"SHIT!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Managing to startle Otabek awake, he hobbled off of the couch and raced to the bathroom, panicking as he hurried to yank Otabek's clothes off of the shower rod and hang them on the door instead</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The jeans dragged the floor but he just couldn't be bothered to care at the moment</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"Yuri?"</span>
  </em>
  <span> Otabek called from the living room, confused and groggy</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"Yuri...?"</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I've gotta shower or I'll be late!!"  Yuri shouted back. starting the water so it would have time to heat up before grabbing his toothbrush, flicking it under the sink and shooting a wad of toothpaste on it before shoving it in his mouth, brushing with one hand and trying his best to get undressed with the other</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Dammit... </span>
  <em>
    <span>dammit</span>
  </em>
  <span>!!</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He'd have to really rush, he still had to get his ballet bag cleaned out and replace the sweaty clothes from yesterday with a new set for today, and he'd have to skip breakfast if he wanted to get to the bus station on time....</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>God what a mess....</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Hurrying through his shower as quickly as possible, he threw on nothing but a towel around his waist when he finally got out, hurrying out of the bathroom and into the bedroom to get his clothes</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He hadn't even bothered to check if Otabek was still there or not, wich he suppose in retrospect he should have, but he was just in too much of a hurry</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Cursing under his breath, he managed to get his clothes on, cringing at the sticky feeling as the fabric stuck to his still damp skin, he grabbed a scrunchie from the nightstand and pulled his hair back, grabbed a clip and pinned it up, no one would know it was unbrushed</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With new clothes in hand he hastily yanked the ones from yesterday out of his bag and replaced them with the new ones, zipping it with a loud screeching </span>
  <em>
    <span>SHINK</span>
  </em>
  <span> before barreling out of the bedroom, only to stop dead in his tracks at the sight of Otabek setting two cups on the kitchen table</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There were also plates and forks and he had managed to put together some toast with butter and jelly on the table, scrambled eggs in a pan, clearly meant to be served up next</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You're out of coffee," he noted, a little hesitantly</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I think all you have left is soda,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri wasn't about to tell him that soda was all he'd had in the first place aide from coffee, things like orange juice and milk were far too expensive</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Otabek... this is... this is so nice..."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm just returning the favor for last night,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri shook his head, biting down breifly on his tongue</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It's nice but I-... I can't stay, I'm running late, if I show up even a minute late Lilia will murder me, I can't..."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Otabek was quiet for a moment, before wordlessly grabbing the toast and a butter nife</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Butter or jelly?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Uh... butter, but I already tol-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Smearing some butter onto the toast, Otabek walked forward and offered it to Yuri</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"There's no reason you can't eat and leave at the same time, I'll drive you there, it'll be much faster than the bus,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You really don-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I want to, and it's kind of my fault you overslept in the first place,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"But-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It's fine,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri sighed quietly, coming to the conclusion that nothing he said or did would sway Otabek's decision, there would be no point in arguing, clearly</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Slowly, he bit into the toast, watching as Otabek grabbed a plastic cup from the cabinet and poured the scrambled eggs into it, then rounded to the bathroom and came back with his keys</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Let's go,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>~+~</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri would have felt more guilty if he'd had the time to</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He managed to get into the studio and start stretching only a couple of minutes before Lilia arrived, and although she had no way of knowing that he'd cut it so close to being late, Yuri somehow &lt;i&gt;felt&lt;/i&gt; like she knew, the look in her eyes seemed colder and harder, her commands for him sharper and more intense, as though she was punishing him without quite punishing him</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Or maybe he was just being paranoid</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>If he was being completely honest with himself, he thought that he should call Otabek after class, instead of just showing up at the diner as per usual</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But... if he </span>
  <em>
    <span>did </span>
  </em>
  <span>call him, what would he say?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Sorry for running out on you this morning"?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Thanks for the ride and the cup of eggs"?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"This morning was weird but I kind of want to do it again"?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything, and instead carried on to the diner as usual</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was Otabek, sitting at the same booth as always, with a cup of coffee and the next in the series of Steve Alten's Meg books- and no, it hadn't gone unnoticed by Yuri that the author shared Otabek's last name, albeit a different spelling, but Otabek had never brought it up so Yuri kind of wondered if &lt;i&gt;he&lt;/i&gt; noticed, that seemed like the kind of trivia Otabek would want to share, but-</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"How was class?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri started a little at that, not used to Otabek being the one to make the first move in a conversation</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This past week, it had always been him</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Um.... good, I guess, nothing really happened... I think Lilia somehow knew that I was almost late though," he noted, sliding into the seat across from Otabek</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"How do you figure?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't know... just... something about the way she was acting? I don't know,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>What a weak answer</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Um, what about you though? How's your day been? What've you been up to?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Not much, it's been alright, how was Lilia acting that makes you think she's onto you?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ah.... there he went again, deflecting Yuri's questions, unwilling to talk about himself....</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ofcourse maybe Otabek just didn't </span>
  <em>
    <span>like</span>
  </em>
  <span> talking about himself, that was always possible, and Otabek didn't really seem to like </span>
  <em>
    <span>talking</span>
  </em>
  <span> in general so it made some decent sense, but Yuri still had that aching feeling that there was something... not quite right about it</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That Otabek's deflections went alot further than just a disinterest in his own life</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Still, Yuri didn't want to pry, he didn't want to risk wrecking the first freindship he'd ever really had by digging too deep too fast</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So he avoided asking, for the time being, he avoided asking and let the conversation go wherever Otabek guided it</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>~+~</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When Yuri walked into the diner the next day, something was different from before</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Otabek wasn't flipping the next page in </span>
  <em>
    <span>Hell's Aquarium</span>
  </em>
  <span> like he had come to expect, instead the book was in front of him, a few inches away from his coffee, and Otabek was on the phone</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was one of those moments of surprise that shouldn't have been surprising, like seeing your teacher grocery shopping</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sure, the logical part of you knew that teachers had to eat, but you still never quite expected to see them weighing the options between different brands of cottage cheese</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Likewise, Yuri knew that Otabek had a phone- they'd exchanged numbers days prior after all- but he had never actually seen him use it, except to put Yuri's own number in the system, so he had never really thought about Otabek just.... talking to someone</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He had never really thought about Otabek having anyone to talk </span>
  <em>
    <span>to</span>
  </em>
  <span>, wich he realized made him sound even more awfull, but it was the truth</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Otabek seemed like a loner, and with his reluctance to talk about himself, Yuri had never really thought about him having any freinds or family</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But did he?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The brunette flicked his eyes up to Yuri, rising from his seat and walking towards him, still on the phone</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>A few words Yuri didn't recognize- Kazakh, he was willing to bet- slipped from Otabek's mouth, before he angled the phone away to address Yuri instead</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'll be right back,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And then he left</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He left the diner, he left his book, he left Yuri standing there wondering what had just happened</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Compulsively, he glanced out the window, making sure that Otabek hadn't just abandoned him here, and sighed with releif when he saw that the other man was only standing outside the diner, still talking on the phone, pacing a little, but all together not making a move towards his bike</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Good</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That was good</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>...."Abandon" though....</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Where had</span>
  <em>
    <span> that</span>
  </em>
  <span> thought come from?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Otabek couldn't </span>
  <em>
    <span>abandon</span>
  </em>
  <span> Yuri, because Yuri wasn't his to abandon</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri wasn't his</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And Otabek wasn't Yuri's</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And that settled as an uncomfortable weight in his chest</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Slowly, he walked to the table and slid into the booth, feeling weirdly uncomfortable sitting there alone, as though he were being watched by everyone else in the diner, as though everyone was staring at him</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He tried his hardest not to be unnerved by it</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Coffee?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Jolting, he glanced up at the waitress, forcing a smile, and nodding, but just as she turned to get the coffee, he stopped her</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Um... I have a weird question,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Shoot," she prompted, as cheerfully as she had suggested the coffee</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"My freind, has he been coming in here a wile?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe, he thought, he could get some information from the waitress, maybe she knew a few things</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He knew that was bad etiquette, but his curiosity was starting to get the better of him</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You know, actually, that's the strangest thing, he started coming in the exact same day that you did, I just assumed you two were meeting here," she mused with a small shrug</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>...</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wait... Otabek had only started coming on the same day as Yuri?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But....</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Come to think of it though, he had always evaded Yuri's questions about how long he'd been in town or even how long he'd been in the states, Yuri had just assumed he'd been there for a wile based on the fact that he knew where the Walmart was, but that didn't actually indicate much of anything</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"He started that day?" Yuri repeated quietly</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, he came in about an hour before you did and ordered lunch- or... hm, I guess early dinner maybe? He's done the exact same thing every day for over a week now,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri was... </span>
  <em>
    <span>stunned</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but the look on his face must not have bothered the waitress</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'll get that coffee for you," she chirped, heading off in the other direction</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri only stayed quiet for a moment, then glanced out the window again at Otabek</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>All of a sudden, the fact that he knew virtually nothing about his new freind was weighing on him, it was no longer just the subject of curiosity, now, it was something he felt outright concern over</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>~+~</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When Otabek returned from his phone call, he had been more quiet than usual- wich Yuri hadn't even thought was humanly possible</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But he was quiet, and he was distant, and his fingers kept twitching, like a nervous fucking tick or something</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And when Yuri asked, it was all vague "It's nothing"s and "I'm fine"s and "Don't worry"s, before he changed the subject to something that only Yuri could really talk about- something he could talk about for hours- something that he wouldn't really notice Otabek's lack of actual participation in</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When they parted ways that night, Yuri was half filled with frustration, and half filled with worry</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He didn't express any of that to Otabek though</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He didn't dare</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>~+~</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It's thundering outside,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Otabek glanced up when Yuri approached him, sliding a marker in his book</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Ok,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It's going to start raining soon, so why don't we just go back to my apartment now and skip getting soaked today?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Otabek nodded slowly and rose up from the booth, grabbing his wallet to leave money for the coffee</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri didn't wait for him to finish before making his way outside to the bike</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>~+~</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>For the first time in their very short relationship, the silence between Yuri and Otabek was tense and awkward</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Otabek still seemed somewhat distant, and Yuri wasn't sure what to do with the thoughts plaguing him</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He didn't think badly of Otabek or anything, ultimately it was his choice, ofcourse, on how much he wanted to share with Yura- if anything at all</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But the fact that Yuri had been so honest all this time and shared so much... realizing just how starkly little Otabek had done the same rubbed him the wrong way and had him on edge</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm going to be doing an exhibition dance at the end of the summer," Yuri noted, waiting for the steady wirling of the microwave to come to a stop, frozen macaroni was waiting inside, steadily thawing</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, it's... just for Lilia though, for her to decide who she's going to recommend to the companies,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Otabek nodded, a look of innocence on his face, a look of intrigue, silently asking for Yuri to keep going but not actually prompting him to</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm... having a hard time deciding on the music," he finally added, rubbing the back of his neck</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I remember that you're really into music, I thought maybe you could help?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Otabek's eyes sparkled, just slightly, like Yuri had offered him a day at Disneyland- or atleast, that's how Yuri imagined Otabek would look under such circumstances, he'd never actually seen the guy excited before so he couldn't really compare</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'd love to," he said sincerely, rising to his feet</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What kind of vibe are you going for?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't really know yet, something dramatic? I'm honestly not that great with music,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Another little white lie, was it so bad to lie to someone who refused to tell the truth?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I figured it'd be best to go back to your place soon, like, maybe tommorrow? You can help me pick something out there right? I mean you've gotta have a great sound system and a huge music library, with how much you're into it, right?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"My place is a mess, why don't we just stay here? I can bring up some suggestions on your laptop,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"No dice, my internet here fucking sucks, even YouTube lags like hell, not to mention streaming,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"We could look on my phone-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"No way, I'll never be able to decide on something if I'm only listening to shitty phone quality,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Otabek was quiet for a moment, seeming lost and almost dejected now</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I... have an iPod, I could bring that? And speakers?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't you have a stereo or something at your place though?" Yuri prompted</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"In Kazakhstan,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ah.... dammit, Yuri had lost his last tool to argue with</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Shoulders sagging slightly, he gave another nod, finally coming to an agreement</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn't at all the agreement he wanted, but he supposed it was better than nothing</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>~+~</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>For the next few days, they worked like that</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They would meet at the diner after Yuri's classes as per usual, then head almost immediately back to Yuri's apartment to listen to music</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The first three days yeilded nothing, everything was either too dramatic or not dramatic enough, too chaotic or too subdued, too popular or too obscure, too much or not enough</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>On the fourth day, an hour into their discussion, having just ruled out Bastille's </span>
  <em>
    <span>"Requiem For Blue Jeans"</span>
  </em>
  <span>- wich was the closest they'd gotten to a hit but not quite close enough- a clap of thunder nearly shook the building</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"God, for a desert you wouldn't think it'd rain so fucking much," Yuri grumbled, the lights overhead flickering as the wind picked up speed</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Must just be one of those summers," Otabek suggested, flicking to the next song on his iPod</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>My body is a cage</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Must be," Yuri agreed quietly</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>That keeps me from dancing with the one I love</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Another loud clap of thunder boomed outside</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>But my mind holds the key</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The lights flickered again, but this time they went out completely, rather than merely flickering</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Shit..."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>My body is a cage</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't suppose you have any candles around here?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>That keeps me from dancing</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Fuck no, who actually keeps candles around?!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>With the one I love</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Otabek chuckled softly, and although Yuri couldn't see it in the dark, he had a feeling the asshole was smiling</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"My phone's charging in my room, I should go get it for the flashlight,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>But my mind holds the key</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Here, you can use mine to get there-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It's alright, I know the layout by now,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He may have said that, but just as he was attempting to get up and walk past Otabek, he ran into the coffee table and fell backwards, landing awkwardly in Otabek's lap, the other man catching him with one hand on his ribs and the other landing on his thigh</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I'm standing on a stage</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>For a moment, everything was quiet and still, the only thing that Yuri could hear was the two of them breathing, underscored by the music still playing on Otabek's iPod</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Of fear and self-doubt</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Sorry," Otabek wispered, but he didn't move at all</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri, on the other hand, placed one hand carefully on Otabek's leg and started to turn in his lap</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It's a hollow play</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"No... I'm sorry," Yuri muttered, pressing himself closer, their foreheads touching</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He could hear his heart pounding, he could feel his blood rushing, a chill broken out over his skin as Otabek pressed closer</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>But they'll clap anyway</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Their lips met, Yuri indulged in his very first kiss, wrapping his arms gently, timidly, around Otabek's neck, and keeping him closer</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>What was happening?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>What was going on between them now?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When had they gone from freinds to... to..</span>
  <em>
    <span>.this</span>
  </em>
  <span>?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>My body is a cage</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri didn't care, he had been wondering about this, about having... </span>
  <em>
    <span>more</span>
  </em>
  <span>.. with Otabek far too much to question when a good thing happened to him</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So he pressed forward, suddenly deepening the kiss, and much to his pleasant surprise, Otabek reciprocated</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>That keeps me from dancing</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There were hands everywhere, down his back, on his hips, against his skin</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They pushed under clothes as lips met and parted and pressed together and Yuri moved to straddle Otabek</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>With the one I love</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri threaded his fingers through Otabek's dark hair, feeling his partner's hands press against his back, lifting his shirt up steadily as Yuri pulled back to help him</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The thunder was still pounding outside, it sounded like it was in rhythm with Yuri's heart now</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>My mind holds the key</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri exhaled, he closed his eyes as he dragged his hands down Otabek's chest and let the other man guide him</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>What was this?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>What were they doing?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri didn't know, he didn't care, but he wanted it</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He </span>
  <em>
    <span>needed</span>
  </em>
  <span> it</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>My mind holds the key</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>~+~</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The silence between them had always been comfortable</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It had always been soft, always held a certain understanding in it, that even if they weren't talking, they were still enjoying the presence of one another</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But the silence between them was tense and stiff, holding the promise that whenever it was broken, so too would be the strange magic of their relationship that had been slowly forming between them for over a week now</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri wouldn't be the one to break it</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He considered himself a destructionist, always destroying everything around him, the good and the bad, the joy and the sorrow and the fear, the good and the bad and the ugly, wrecking every relationship, every accomplishment, every part of himself, until there was nothing left but dancing</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And he threw himself into dancing because it was the only thing he'd yet to destroy</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was the only thing he had ever created for himself, so how could he destroy it?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri had only ever created dancing for himself, and yet here he was, staring at the buds of something else he had created for himself, so small and fragile, threatened to be yanked out of the ground and destroyed if he dared to speak</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>How could he destroy his own creation?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It felt like hours that they laid there, at some point having moved off of the floor and to Yuri's cramped single bed instead, with Yuri pressed against the wall and Otabek barely managing to keep himself from rolling off of the side</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Their inability to get distance from eachother was only making matters worse</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ultimately, it was Otabek who broke the trance, but Yuri who broke the silence</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The brunette rolled quietly out of bed, and Yuri shot straight up, panic rising in his chest</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Because of </span>
  <em>
    <span>course</span>
  </em>
  <span> this was it</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This was the moment he lost him</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This was the moment they lost eachother</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Where do you think you're going asshole!?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Otabek stopped suddenly, glancing at Yuri over his shoulder with an eyebrow raised</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"The bathroom... is that ok?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri swallowed tightly, giving a tiny nod and laying down again</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, why wouldn't it be?" he muttered back, turning over to face the wall, waiting until he heard  Otabek's footsteps start up again, and squeezing his eyes shut</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He couldn't deal with this tonight</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He </span>
  <em>
    <span>wouldn't</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When Otabek returned, he feigned sleep</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He dozed off an hour later, with Otabek squished in next to him, and anxiety thrumming in his veins</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>~+~</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri left first the next morning</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He made a point of getting up earlier than usual, doing his best to be up before Otabek, and hurrying out</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He spent the extra time getting coffee at the diner, and danced terribly when he attended practice for the day</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The entire day felt all at once as though it was moving far too slowly and far too quickly, stuck in molasses and yet in an ever speeding race car at the same time</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Every moment dragged on horribly, as though he was spending hours in every bracket of five minutes, but by the time he blinked, the entire day was gone, and he found himself standing outside the studio, sinking into the realization that his procrastination was coming to an end</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Gone were his reasonable excuses for not seeing or talking to Otabek, all that was left now was the truth, as painfull and raw and awfull as it felt</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He stood at the half-way point between the studio and the diner for.... God, he didn't even know how long, he just couldn't stop debating, couldn't stop going back and forth, going over it in his mind until he felt like he had lost his mind</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>What should he do?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Go inside and confront the problem, and risk hearing that last night was just a fling? Just a one time occurance? That it would never happen anymore? Or worse, that something really was going to form between them, something that Yura would never be able to devote himself to for longer than a few hours a day for the next three weeks before vanishing forever, either to New York ot back to Russia?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>...Or should he leave?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Leave, and let himself live in the Schrodinger's Cat type of universe, so he would always wonder and never have to know the truth</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He'd never have to hurt from the truth</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He didn't realize how long he had been standing there, time like an immovable object, unwilling to push forward, until he heard someone speak</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You know, if you keep just standing there without coming inside, people will get the wrong idea,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri startled slightly, his attention directing to Otabek as the brunette stood in front of him, almost picturesque in his stoicism</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't want to have this conversation in public," he said after a beat, wich wasn't untrue, but he left out the part about not wanting to have the conversation at all</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Alright, we'll back to your pla-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"No, I want to go to your's,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Otabek looked surprised by that, he opened his mouth- assumingly to protest- but Yuri was quick to interrupt</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"We've been to my apartment over and over again but I've never once been to your's, take me to your's," he insisted again</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"...I don't have an apartment," he protested slowly, weakly</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri rolled his eyes, annoyed by the verbal semantics</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Fine then, condo, house, wherever the fuck it is you're staying, I want to go there,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>With hesitance, Otabek finally sighed, his head bowed in reluctant acceptance before nodding Yuri towards his bike</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri had never felt more tense getting on</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>~+~</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"So.... when you said you didn't have an apartment....."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Right,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri stared at the motel door, the number and letter hanging on it old and rusted, the key card took three tries to work, and when Otabek finally pushed the door open, it took extra effort, as the humidity had caused the wood to swell and made getting in even more difficult</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri was highly suspicious that the air conditioning was on the fritz, as it felt like an oven upon entering, and when Otabek turned on the desk fan next to the TV, his suspicions were more or less confirmed</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"How long have you been here?" he asked slowly, shutting the door behind him and wrinkling his nose as it hit the frame with a low, loud, </span>
  <em>
    <span>*THUD*</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The room smelled like smoke, even though he knew Otabek wasn't a smoker, and the carpet looked like it had been there since the sixties</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri had a sneaking suspicion it had been an equally long time since it had been properly cleaned too</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Since you came into town,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri squinted, huffing in frustration</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Why the fuck?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Otabek moved to sit on the edge of the bed, Yuri taking regretfull note of the fact that that was all there was, no chairs</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Damn</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I... never really meant to stay here,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"So you... what? Sleep-book-rooms at shitty motels? It was an accident?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I never meant to stay in town," Otabek clarified</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm on an extended road trip, I was only passing through here on my way to California, but... when I met you... I just.. I didn't want you to go back to that diner the next day and me not be there to.... help you find the Walmart,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That was the lamest excuse Yuri had ever heard, and he was quite sure that his flat, disbelieving expression conveyed that perfectly</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"And every day after that?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I just.... I just liked you, alot... so I kept telling myself 'one more day' and... and that turned into nearly two weeks,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"So you've spent the last two weeks in Fucktown Nowheresville when you could have been in California all this time.... because of me?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Well technically it's still another couple of days to get to California but you've basically got the idea,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"That's fucking stupid,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And fucking sweet too, but Yuri wasn't going to say that one out loud</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Well I never knew romantic inclinations to be particularly smart," Otabek pointed out</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri only swallowed at that, tight and uneven, and shifted on his feet</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So they were here now, at the unholy crux of the conversation, where they stopped beating around the bush and got right to the bleeding heart of the matter</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Right.... romantic inclinations," he muttered quietly, finally moving to sit down on the edge of the bed next to Otabek</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They were closer than they had been since dismounting the bike, but somehow, Yuri had never felt so much distance between them</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"So is that..... something you want then? ..Romantic inclinations, with me?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Otabek nodded, quiet, and turned to look at Yuri's face</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But Yuri didn't look back at him</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"That's a longshot you know, for this to work out I mean, if.... if I don't get that one fucking golden ticket to New York, I've gotta go back to Russia, and you know-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm going back to Kazakhstan,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>...</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>What?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That time, Yuri looked at him, startled and confused and heartbroken</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"...</span>
  <em>
    <span>Excuse me?</span>
  </em>
  <span>"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I was... only ever meant to be on this trip for the summer... and when it's over, I'm supposed to go back to Kazakhstan and work for my dad's company,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>All of a sudden, the cauldron of anxiety and nerves that had been steadily boiling to a bubble inside Yuri's gut had a fucking bowling ball tossed into it, and he felt the impact of that full force</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Kazakhstan... fucking.... Kazakhstan!? Really!? You couldn't have fucking said that sooner!? Fuck Otabek! This... this is never going to work then!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Otabek's head shot up, staring at Yuri like a lost puppy as Yuri sprang to his feet, pointedly ignoring that sad, tragic look and directing his focus at the carpet instead</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Goddammit!! For a-... for a fucking... SECOND I thought... maybe it would be a longshot but that atleast there'd be a fucking CHANCE! But we can't-.... fuck!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"There's still a chance," Otabek insisted quietly</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Really!? For what, exactly? A long distance relationship where we see eachother once or twice a year? Worst case scenario I go back to Russia and have to get some shit job just to pay the bills and good fucking luck affording a plane ticket to see you ever, BEST case scenario I go to NEW YORK and spend the rest of my dancing years working my ASS off and STILL probably wouldn't be able to afford to come and see you because New York is fucking EXPENSIVE and ballet doesn't pay well and Kazakhstan is FAR from New York-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I could come and see you though," Otabek protested quietly</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I mean.... a few times a year... atleast, my parents know I like to travel.... they... they're fine with it, as long as I go back home in the end..."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri paused, the anger brewing inside of him taking a momentary backseat to curiosity as he glanced Otabek's way again</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"And you can afford all those plane tickets? Fuck what kind of company does your father even run?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"He designs suits, and yes I can afford the plane tickets, really,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri's face scrunched up slightly at that, his eyes narrowing</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Suits... why did that-...?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Suddenly, his eyes widened, and he spun around, staring at Otabek with shock and certainty</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't tell me... don't... fucking tell me, your father owns Altin Suits?!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Given the way Otabek winced, Yuri was going to take that as a hard "Yes"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Fucking.... are you fucking kidding me?! Goddammit!! Well no fucking wonder you can afford some dumbass roadtrip!! You're fucking rich!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm not rich," Otabek insisted clearly</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Well off!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Well..."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Damn you!! All this time.... all this time I actually thought we were the same!! I thought you and I were the same!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What does that even mean?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri huffed out a breath, arms wrapping around his chest, as though he was trying to hold himself up</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It means that all this time I thought we were the same kind of person, just.... just two lost people with no money coming from a place that doesn't accept who we are... finding eachother like... like some kind of fucking twisted fairytale... and even if it didn't work out I atleast thought-.... hey, there's somebody else like me out there, you know? But now-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What? Because my father designs suits?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Because you have money you fuckhead! And you're never going to understand what I'm going through! Don't downplay it, I know how well your fucking company does-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"My father's company-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I know you're not hurting for cash! And all this time.... fuck no wonder you kept paying for my coffee... you think I'm some kind of charity case..."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"No, I don't," Otabek insisted, rising to his feet and reaching out, but Yuri didn't go to him, he only pulled back further</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I like you, Yuri, and we're more similar than you seem to think, money isn't that big of a deal,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah not to somebody who has it! You are never going to understand what I'm going through... that this is my ONLY fucking chance to have a life!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I do understand that,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Bullshit! I'm out here working my ass off for a SHOT of having a decent life and you're on fucking vacation with Daddy's money until you go back to work at some high-end company! God!! You and I are NOTHING alike!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You think I'm living some kind of dream?" Otabek frowned, his temper finally rising, even though his voice remained even and steady</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"This summer is all I have before I'm &lt;i&gt;condemned&lt;/i&gt;, you may not have money but you have </span>
  <em>
    <span>freedom</span>
  </em>
  <span>! I... I am bound to my father's company weather I like it or not, I don't care about clothes- </span>
  <em>
    <span>at all</span>
  </em>
  <span>, but I'm going to be working there the rest of my life, passing all of my major life choices through my parents like a child so I don't risk hurting the company's name, and sooner or later..... sooner or later they're going to marry me off, and trust me, it won't be to a husband,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri was quiet for a moment, taking a deep breath, before looking up, his eyes weren't watering yet, but they were damn close to it</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Then what are we doing here?" he asked quietly</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"If there's no future then why are we even doing this? For a summer fling? To know what it's like so we can remember it when we're stuck in shit jobs and loveless marriages? Like... like some kind of fucking... shooting stars that pass eachother for a blink of a moment and then never cross paths again? Or do you just want to get started early on picking out a mistress? How romantic right? You take a week off here, and a weekend there, to go visit the ballerina you've got stashed away in New York? Go home smelling like my perfume and watch your wife's heart break harder and harder everytime? What would-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Stop," Otabek blurted out, rubbing his face tiredly</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't.... I don't intend to ever have an affair, much less make you a side peice,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"....So it's the first one?" Yuri asked quietly</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Does it have to be?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Doesn't it!? You're the one who just said that you're stuck in this fucking shit life you have where you're held under your father's foot and won't have the freedom to marry who you really want, so doesn't it have to be?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Otabek hung his head, and Yuri took an unsteady breath, and for a wile, that was all there was to it</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"We're both angry," Otabek finally said, causing Yuri to roll his eyes</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I think maybe we should just take a second apart, to... to breathe, you know? So..... I'm going to take a shower, if you're still here when I come back, we'll talk, and if not... I understand,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri went quiet again, eyes on the floor once more, as Otabek slipped into the bathroom and turned the shower on</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Now he was back at the same position he'd been in an hour ago</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Stay, or go?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>~+~</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Let's run away,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri was expecting alot of responses when Otabek came out of the shower and saw him sitting on the edge of the bed, anxiously waiting to continue the discussion he hadn't wanted to have in the first place</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But that hadn't been one of them</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"....What?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"We're both unhappy with where our lives are going, so why don't we just run away from it all?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri huffed, crashing backwards onto the mattress and covering his eyes with the back of his arm</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, sure, that's going to work, yet again you're forgetting one big fucking detail Genius- </span>
  <em>
    <span>money</span>
  </em>
  <span>,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"If we pool our resources, we can make it," Otabek reasoned quietly, a towel still around his waist as he moved to sit on the edge of the bed next to Yuri</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"If we left right now... I could buy us plane tickets to New York... and I have a savings account I've been building up since I was fifteen, I could get us three months rent in an apartment plus the down payment, if you left right now and cancelled the lease on your apartment, we could stay afloat long enough for me to get a job, and you could still pursue dancing,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri sighed loudly, rubbing his hands over his face</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Only from the mouth of somebody born in money..... there's so much wrong with that plan Otabek, the first thing being that I'm not leaving right now, there's no fucking way I'm going to ditch out on the chance of a lifetime to run away with somebody I barely know, or for anybody, for that matter, it'd be an insult to Lilia, and to the dancers who couldn't get into her academy, and to my grandpa who's funding all this.... and honestly, to me, I didn't work this hard to ditch,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Otabek's shoulders sagged a little, bit he still looked overall determined</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Then we'll wait out your classes, if you get chosen to go to New York then that's great, and half our problems will be solved, but if not... two months rent, down payment, food, I can afford all that,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Uh-huh, and you can get a job doing... what? Waiting tables? That's not going to hold up for &lt;i&gt;one&lt;/i&gt; person in New York, much less two, don't let </span>
  <em>
    <span>Freinds</span>
  </em>
  <span> lie to you, New York is fucking expensive and some minimum wage job like that isn't going to cut it, dancing is also expensive, if I ever want to get a job as a dancer it's going to be alot of fucking money for pretty low fucking pay checks, and what about your family? Twenty minutes ago you were so dedicated but now you're just going to run away?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"My sister can take over the company, they don't really need me, and before now..... I didn't really have a reason to fight against it, but now I do, and.... Yuri, now that I know what this could be like.... I don't want to give up, I don't want to fold to what someone else- &lt;i&gt;anyone&lt;/i&gt; else- wants for my life,"</span>
</p>
<p>Otabek paused, staring at the floor</p>
<p>“This isn’t my first roadtrip you know, I went on one before, last year, around Kazakhstan… I met a boy in a town near the Russian border, we liked eachother alot, or atleast I thought we did, and one night… we kissed, and I thought it’d be fine, you know? He didn’t know who I was- or rather, who my father is- so I didn’t think it’d get around, I thought maybe…. Maybe it could be something, but… he suddenly backed off in the middle of it, I guess he decided he wasn’t ready to.. be himself? Or… be with anyone, or…. I don’t know, I just know that one minute he was kissing me and the next he was punching me in the face, we had a huge fight and he ran off, the next night on my way back to the hotel I got attacked, told to keep away from him, I remembered his brother was in a gang, I can only assume that’s who it was but I never got confirmation.. After that I thought I could live in the closet and be what my parents wanted, it was a wake-up call that any thoughts I may have had about being gay in Kazakhstan would never work, and I’ve honestly never wanted to move away, I’m happy in my hometown, and proud of my country, I thought I could get by hiding myself but…”</p>
<p>He went quiet for a moment, and Yuri felt a heaviness settle over him, even more so than before</p>
<p>“Your scars… is that… what that’s from?”</p>
<p>“Well, I’m not a black belt, and I didn’t have a nife, so defending myself against six guys with baseball bats and tire irons only went so far,” he teased lightly, though Yuri only winced a little</p>
<p>“Yeah um… I’m not… actually a blackbelt,”</p>
<p>“I kind of figured,”</p>
<p>That snapped the blonde’s head up, frowning tensely</p>
<p>“Hey, I could be a black belt if I wanted to be!”</p>
<p>“Oh I have no doubt, but for someone who talks so much about the things he cares about and the things he can do, you’ve never once talked about martial arts, that’s an awfully big interest to keep out of conversations for someone who has a black belt,”</p>
<p>Ah…. damn….</p>
<p>“So you just.. let me lie about it?”</p>
<p>“It didn’t matter to me, it still doesn’t,”</p>
<p>That caused the blonde to go quiet again, sighing a little as he ran his fingers through his hair</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Otabek... is it really me that you want? Or do you just want the </span>
  <em>
    <span>idea</span>
  </em>
  <span> of me?" Yuri asked quietly, slowly sitting back up</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You're closeted right? So am I, and it.... it's thrilling, what's happening now... having a taste of what we want.. do we really want eachother? Or do we just want to be free?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Can't it be both?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The blonde shrugged, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah I guess it could be, but are you seriously willing to trash your entire life on the off chance that it is?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm not trashing anything, this is about more than you, more than us, if I go to New York I can be free, if you're going there too then why don't we go together?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"And what if we decide in a year that we don't work together? What if we decide in a month? Or in a fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>week</span>
  </em>
  <span>?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"People </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> get total strangers for roommates you know, atleast we know we like eachother and we didn't meet on Craigslist,'</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"And thank God for that," Yuri snorted</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"My point is... if we don't work as a couple, can't we atleast work as roommates?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri hated to admit that he </span>
  <em>
    <span>might</span>
  </em>
  <span> have a point, but....</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You're still vastly underestimating this financial issue, and if I don't get work as a dancer right away, that's eventually going to crawl under your skin, you can't endure that kind of strain from someone who's basically a stranger and not get resentfull, it just... isn't possible,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"So it isn't even worth trying?" Otabek frowned</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What are the alternatives? That we don't try at all and go back to lives we don't want to live? Isn't it worth it to take a chance and fail rather than not take any chances at all?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri took another deep breath, rubbing his face in exhaustion</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He hated that Otabek actually had something of a </span>
  <em>
    <span>point</span>
  </em>
  <span>....</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"And what happens if we fail?" Yuri asked a beat later</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What happens to </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Me, I go back to Russia with a suitcase of memories, back to my grandpa, back to the original plan of failure, but you? Would your parents even let you come home after you skip out on them?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Otabek bit the inside of his lip, taking a deep breath through his nose, eyes averted</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I... don't care, I don't care, I don't want to go back to the way things were, I don't want to go back to the life that was laid out for me, I want my freedom, and even if I fail along the way.... atleast I'll be free,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri was quiet for a moment, before reaching out and quietly wrapping his fingers around Otabek's, squeezing gently</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They said nothing, but they sat there with their fingers looped together for what felt like ages</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>~+~</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>When I was a little kid, I used to dream about my wedding, I think I was the only little boy in sixth grade who knew he wanted a tuxedo jacket with tails and Bryan Adams singing at my reception,"</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Margret, can you turn this shit off?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri's nails pressed into his palms, his stomach churned as he watched the past-middle-age waitress grab the remote from behind the counter and flick the TV off with a quick </span>
  <em>
    <span>"Sorry Ted,"</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The probably six-foot-tall trucker grunted out a relieved </span>
  <em>
    <span>"Thank you,"</span>
  </em>
  <span> and took another sip of his coffee as the waitress set his food on the counter</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri had been staring at the little TV screen in the upper corner of the diner for the last three minutes, since getting in from practice, waiting on someone to make a comment about the gay wedding playing out on the soap opera</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It hadn't taken long</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You know that New York isn't a gay paradise, right?" he commented suddenly, drawing Otabek's attention away from the last page of his book, his eyebrows raising</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I mean I know it's better than half the places in this god forsaken world but you're delusional if you think that you're just going to walk down the street wearing rainbow colors and everybody's gonna launch into a rendition of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Land Of Lola</span>
  </em>
  <span>,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"That's ok, I'm really more of a Rocky Horror fan anyway,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri rolled his eyes... but he did pocket that information for later</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm serious, you're not going to get away from homophobia just because you live in a different city,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"But atleast I can get married, atleast I'll have some rights, more than what I have in Kazakhstan, and more than we'd have in Russia,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri was tempted to ask why he was suddenly pulling Russia into this, as though the two of them moving back there together had ever been an option, but he swallowed the words, atleast for the time being</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I know," he said after a beat</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I just... I just want you to know... not to expect paradise,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't, I promise," Otabek said softly</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri bit the tip of his tongue, but before he could say anything else, the door to the diner opened, drawing his attention away for the moment</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"We're lucky it's such an easy fix, I was really worried when the engine started smoking that the car was done for,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri would recognize that accent anywhere, his heart doing a small flip-flop in his chest as the thick Russian drawl clung to distinctly English words</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I told you to check the coolant days ago," replied a second voice, this one also accented, but much more softly, and not anything close to Russian, Yuri wasn't cultured enough to pin it</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I know I know, sorry darling,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was a chill slowly clinging to Yuri's spine as he watched two men walk past their booth by the door, one tall with silver hair and blue eyes, the other slightly shorter- though, still taller than Yuri himself by quite a margin- with dark hair and brown eyes, wearing blue-framed glasses</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I promise next time to listen to you the first time you suggest it,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ah, so the light-haired one was the Russian, Yuri suspected that, but he wasn't about to leap to conclusions</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You say that now, but I'll believe it when I see it," chided his companion, who, despite the clipped words, seemed more amused than annoyed, the way he curled into his partner's touch as the Russian wrapped his arm around the brunette's back was proof enough of that</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The diner had exactly seven other people in it, including Otabek and Yuri, and all seven of them were watching the apparent couple like wild animals</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yet they didn't seem to give it much mind, making their way to a booth a few paces down, still close enough for Yuri to eavesdrop if he strained</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And he did, because this.... because how could he </span>
  <em>
    <span>not?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn't exactly a surprise that the teenager from a small town in Russia, who had only ever traveled outside his home country to visit an even smaller town in the American midwest, had only ever seen gay couples on the internet, and he was unable to keep his curiosity to himself</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Do you think it's a sin to eat breakfast when it's nearly time for dinner?" the Russian mused casually</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And what a word to choose for that sentence</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Sin"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>How many times had Yuri heard that word in far less playfull contexts? How many times had he stared at the cross his grandfather had given him as a child and wondered, with pain shooting through his chest, if it was a word that stained him?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"No, get what you want, just.. not waffles, I refuse to let the cause of our deaths be your passing out at the weel from a sugar coma,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Ahhh but waffles are so good.... I was thinking eggs in this case though, eggs benedict, I think I want that... what about you?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm thinking something low cal... if that's even an option..."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The Russian muttered something unpleasant under his breath that Yuri couldn't quite make out, and he found himself leaning further into the table, as if being two inches marginally closer would actually help</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"We're on vacation! You should let yourself indulge a little,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Viktor I'm not going to get to Comic Con and not be able to fit into my cosplay, I'd rather die,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So they were on their way to California too then, Yuri supposed he shouldn't be surprised, surely no one but his dumb ass would actually come to this nowhere-town for more than just an unfortunate pitstop on the way to something bigger and better</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Although wasn't he technically doing the same thing?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>In a way, this was just a pitstop to New York, or so he hoped</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He wondered if he would actually get there</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He wondered if the circumstances were different, if he and Otabek could have had whatever these two had, a roadtrip across the midwest, making their way to something fun and exciting, could they roadtrip to New York on a motorcycle? Could they roadtrip to New York &lt;i&gt;at all&lt;/i&gt;?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe they could, that would save them plane fare, but how much would the gas money be? Were motorcycles gas guzzlers? Probably...</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yuri!!!!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The blonde startled, his face bright red as the Russian- Viktor- shouted his name, suddenly leaping up from the booth</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He started going down a mental checklist of who the asshole could be, how they might have known eachother, what would be expected of him in a conversation, if they would have to hide the fact that they ever saw eachother--...</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Look!! They have a juice box!!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I think you mean 'juke box'," the brunette- who apparently shared Yuri's name, displeasurably- laughed as Viktor pulled him suddenly to his feet</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh is that what they're called? I've always wanted to try one of these!!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri watched, stomach churning, as the two of them made their way to the juke box in the center of the diner, the one thing in the place that looked moderately newer than something from 2003, and stood in front of it</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri himself had never bothered to fuck around with the juke box, his attention having always been so thoroughly showered upon Otabek that he had never even really noticed it before, and no one else in the diner ever seemed to screw with it either, Yuri was willing to guess that was because at the time of day he was usually there, the diner was always full of regulars- adults all in their fourties or older who had no interest in wasting money on the same fifty pop songs they could hear for free on the radio whenever they wanted</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"How much cash do you have?" Viktor asked, already pulling his wallet out of his pocket</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Um.... two dollars... we really need to hit an ATM..." his partner- the &lt;i&gt;other&lt;/i&gt; Yuri- winced upon looking through his own wallet</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I have three.. damn that gas station in Patagonia..."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You're the one who bought eight thousand mini doughnuts and the slushie that melted in five minutes," the brunette chuckled, already pulling his two dollars from his wallet</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"And I still think it was worth it,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It turned your mouth blue,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I know,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Pointedly, Viktor stuck out his tongue, and Yuri noticed that, if he squinted, he could still see the blue streak across the center of it</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Atleast Viktor's partner seemed amused, laughter chiming out of him like windchimes as he took the three dollars Viktor was handing him</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The couple had drawn the attention of others again, the waitress from earlier pretending not to stare as she poured some ketchup from a large container into one of the smaller squirt bottles, the trucker with the TV complaints from earlier was much less subtle, his brow creased and his nose wrinkled as he watched the two of them like a hawk</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Out of the corner of his eye, Yuri noticed the other waitress, a woman easily pushing seventy, watching them over her shoulder as she wiped down a table, and the older man dressed all in plaid glancing at them from time to time over his coffee</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Seemingly the only people who weren't paying attention were the woman in the pencil skirt who was too busy ticking away on her laptop and the old man wearing a winter coat in the middle of summer who hadn't seemed to look up from his cherry pie since Yuri first walked in</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Are we really spending our only cash on a juke box?" the other Yuri asked, though it sounded rhetorical, and he was already uncreasing the corners of the bills to slide them into the machine</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'll get cash back when we pay for lunch," Viktor reasoned, wrapping one arm around his partner's sternum and letting his head rest on top of Yuri's, free hand already tapping away on the touch screen of the juke box</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri was just trying to suppress his surprise that the diner hadn't seemed to replace their tables since the eighties, yet somehow had a touch-screen juke box</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oooh look Yuri!! They have Taylor Swift!!!" Viktor gasped, pulling away with childlike excitement as his partner fed money into the machine</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"They have Stevie Nicks and Troye Sivan too, wow, I'm surprised it's so updated... must be streaming..."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes ok but </span>
  <em>
    <span>Taylor Swift</span>
  </em>
  <span>! Look! They have our song!!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Ok ok, play it then,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm playing it twice!"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"..Fine, but then I get two Troye Sivan songs,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Twice </span>
  <em>
    <span>and</span>
  </em>
  <span> the one under it and you can have </span>
  <em>
    <span>three</span>
  </em>
  <span> Troye Sivan songs,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"But Viktor they only have two..."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You know..." Otabek said slowly, jerking Yuri's attention back to him, face pink over the fact that he had just been caught eavesdropping</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And if the look on Otabek's face was anything to go by, he clearly hadn't been very discrete about it</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He wondered absently how long Otabek had been staring at him like that, watching him watch the couple</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"If you're trying to be discrete, it isn't working,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Who said I was trying to be anything?" Yuri snapped defensively, watching the lines of Otabek's face soften into something akin to sympathy</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He hated it</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>We can leave the Christmas lights up till January, this is our place, we make the rules</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And one of those corny ass love songs was playing now and Yuri hated that too</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yuri... you're being kind of obvious,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I really don't think they've noticed," Yuri noted with a huff, watching as the couple wrapped their arms around eachother and started dancing in the middle of the diner, like something out of the world's grossest romcom</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The way they looked at eachother was sickening, the way they held eachother was making Yuri's blood boil, the way they completely ignored everything and everyone around them made his eyes sting</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Because he was jealous</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Because he wanted that</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Because he wished he could be that way, wished he had the freedom to be so in love that he could ignore all of the tensions steadily starting to rise around him</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Because as they danced like no one was watching- as they danced as everyone was watching- the air around them grew thicker with heat and tension and frustration</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The trucker at the counter grunted again, slapping some bills down on the counter before stepping down from his seat and purposely bumping into the pair, managing to nock the brunette off of his feet as he irritably stomped out of the diner</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Excuse us!" Viktor shouted loudly after him, having caught his partner like it was nothing</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But it wasn't nothing and even in the snowglobe romance world that those two lived in, they knew that</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri could hear Viktor wispering soft </span>
  <em>
    <span>"Are you ok?"</span>
  </em>
  <span>s and little </span>
  <em>
    <span>"Are you sure?"</span>
  </em>
  <span>s as he held his partner closer, pretending not to be bothered as they danced, wile needing to be reassured that the bump was just a bump and nothing more serious than that</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri wondered why</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He wondered why they bothered trying to be so exuberant if they didn't mean it</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri understood the concept of acting, he understood acting to gain a better societal result than one would naturally get, he understood acting smart and acting tough and acting normal and acting </span>
  <em>
    <span>straight</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He </span>
  <em>
    <span>didn't</span>
  </em>
  <span> understand acting so happy and so gay when you were scared inside and everyone was already against you</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But maybe that's just it</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe happiness was the sheild</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Or maybe it was just defiance</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri listened to heavy metal and wore chains on his jeans and screamed every version of the word "Fuck" in every language he could learn it because he was defiant and he was angry and he wanted everyone to know</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe this was their defiance, and their anger, and their wanting everyone to know, but they weren't shouting "F" bombs and when the "F" bombs came flying back at them they didn't stand for "fuck"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri watched them dance through the end of the song, the middle-aged waitress had conveniently disappeared to the kitchen not long after the trucker left, and when the couple finally sat back down, the other waitress was waiting for them, setting a plate of apple pie ala mode with two spoons in front of them</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, we didn't-"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It's on me," she said quickly, cutting the other Yuri off before he could say anything</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh... thank you, that's so sweet.."</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Don't you worry about it honey, I've got a son like you, Gavin, he lives up in Vegas now and goes by Chantalle on the weekends,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The older woman hadn't exactly spoken quietly, even without eavesdropping it was easy to overhear, but Yuri figured he had spied enough, he really should quit, the lovebirds may have been wrapped up in eachother until now but how long could that possibly go on for? How long could anyone reasonably spend completely ignoring the rest of the world?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri pulled back, about to force his attention to return to Otabek and the uncomfortable reality of what they had to deal with, when something caught the corner of his eye</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>There was quite a noticeable keychain on the floor, a set of keys attached to it, not far from where the couple had been dancing, Yuri was willing to bet it had fallen out of one of their pockets when the trucker pushed the other Yuri</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Without thinking about it or paying any attention to Otabek, he stood up, snatching the keychain and making his way over to the couple in silence, only catching their attention once he was actually in front of them</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I think this is your's," he noted bluntly, opening up his hand to reveal the red and black enamel</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh!! Yes! That's mine!! Thank you, I didn't even know it was gone!" Viktor chirped, eyes bright as he snatched the keychain and it's attached keys immediately</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, no problem," Yuri muttered back non-committally, his eyes scanning the couple breifly before landing on the end of the table</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He hadn't noticed it before, but the other Yuri had a book with him</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The Ancient Magus Bride: The Silver Yarn </span>
  </em>
  <span>was scrolled across the cover of the thick papperback, a worn looking bookmark sticking out of it at around the half-way point, and that was when it hit him, like a ton of bricks falling on his shoulders</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He was standing in front of a mirror</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He was seeing a possible reflection of himself, about ten years from now, how his life might go if he takes the red pill instead of the blue pill</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The light-haired, thick-accented Russian, sitting across the table from the soft-spoken brunette who brought books with him to diners, attached to eachother forever by gold bands and similar but not identical tastes in music</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>This was a reflection of what he could have if he took a leap, was this what he wanted?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ten years from now in this same diner, holding hands across the table, waiting on their car to be fixed wile on vacation?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>What had their lives been like ten years ago?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Were their dreams fullfilled? Had they found eachother all the way back then? What price had they paid for having this kind of gentleness between them now?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He wanted to know, </span>
  <em>
    <span>needed</span>
  </em>
  <span> to know, but the words were stuck on his tongue</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And what was he even supposed to ask</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Are you happy?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Did you fail?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Was it worth it?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He wanted to know, needed to know, but....</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Where are you from?" he asked suddenly, the words flowing out of him before he could stop himself</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was the other Yuri who answered, with warmth and kindness to him that made the blonde feel almost like he was talking to an old freind</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Had that warmth come with age? Or had it always been there?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Atlanta,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Atlanta</span>
  </em>
  <span>?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>What the fuck was in Atlanta besides Coca Cola and pandas?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And why in God's name were they </span>
  <em>
    <span>driving</span>
  </em>
  <span> to California?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When Yuri only stayed planted there, staring in silence, face scrunched up with confusion and unasked questions, Viktor seemed to read his mind</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I was born in St. Petersberg," he provided helpfully</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yuri was born in Hasetsu, in Japan, he studied in Detroit and I spent the first half or so of my twenties in New York, but we moved to Atlanta for work,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>And all of a sudden, just like that, Yuri was filled with more questions than answered</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>How did they meet? </span>
  <em>
    <span>When</span>
  </em>
  <span> did they meet? When did they move? What kind of work? Why, how, when, where--....</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What's New York like?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Viktor's expression was as warm as Yuri's, nostalgic now, eyes flicking down to the dessert on the table, wistfully and in remembrance</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Loud," he finally said</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"And cold, but not as cold as Russia, busy and crowded and amazing and... full of culture and pride and egos and art and...... and if you asked me to go back I would in a heartbeat, but only for a visit,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Viktor paused, smiling up at Yuri</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"It's very loud,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri understood, he knew what that meant, in some weird secret language that he hadn't fathomed how Viktor possibly knew he spoke, he knew exactly what he meant</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Loud as in noise, loud as in opinions, loud as in pride, loud as in love and hate and art and culture and anger and kindness and culminations of everything in one small island</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Ofcourse it was loud, the exact opposite of the silence in this town</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You said you moved for work, who's work?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Well both of our's really but... it started with Yuri's,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That.. took him by surprise</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Admittedly, Yuri didn't know alot about the U.S., he didn't know alot about places in general, but it seemed to him that if one had to choose between leaving New York or leaving Detroit, the answer would fall pretty obviously to the latter</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Sure, logically, he knew it hadn't been such a clean choice, but it was still surprising somehow</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Really? Why did you leave New York for that?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Viktor looked at him with confusion for a moment, before his lips ticked into a smile and his fingers wrapped around his husband's</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Because I love Yuri, and because by that point, he had become my home, not a city, not a place, even New York had lost it's luster in comparison, why wouldn't I follow him? Following him was just like... going home,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri was no stranger to that concept, not to the concept of searching for a home anyway</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He'd always be a proud Russian but he didn't belong in Moscow, that was no home for him, where he always had to hide who he was just to survive, he had assumed that the glamor and acceptance of New York was the home calling out to him, but maybe he was wrong, maybe home wasn't a place for him either, but how could he know? How could he be sure?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"How long were you guys together before you moved?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Six months, Yuri'd been in New York for less than a year at that point,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Six months?! You dropped your career and your freinds and your LIFE for </span>
  <em>
    <span>six months</span>
  </em>
  <span>!?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He hadn't meant to be loud, but loudness was in his nature</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe he'd be well suited to New York after all</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, I'm not sure I could really say that," Viktor mused, a finger pressing against his chin</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"I really was only living for my career back then, I didn't have any relationships besides Yuri, and even my job had really begun to lose it's importance to me by that point, I was.... very unhappy there, so it wasn't a big sacrifice to leave it all behind,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"But... but what if it hadn't worked out?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Well then atleast I could have still said I tried," he shrugged back with ease</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"What other options did I have? Stay in a place I knew was making me unhappy? Or take a leap of faith and try something that atleast </span>
  <em>
    <span>could</span>
  </em>
  <span> make me happy, even if I failed, would I really be worse off than I already was?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Yeah, you'd be in a different place with a different job- provided you had one at all- and presumably no way back to your old life," Yuri pointed out</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"But my old life wasn't making me happy anymore so I'd have to change anyway or be suffocated to death by how stifling it was, and yes it was a risk, but.... if I'd failed, I would hit a rough patch that I could dig my way out of one way or another, if I never took that leap in the first place, I'd just spend my life wondering what would have happened if I had and regretting my decision not to,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Wondering and regretting.....</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri stared at a reflection of what he could be in ten years, and it didn't look particularly exciting but it looked comfortable and cozy and </span>
  <em>
    <span>happy</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He stared into the reflection and knew that this was the red pill, he looked over his shoulder at the door to the diner and knew that beyond it was the blue pill</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The ever consistent question- do you take a leap and put out big risk for a potentially bigger reward, or stay where it's safe, risking nothing but also gaining nothing?</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He stared at the red pill future again and saw that their leap had turned out pretty well</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He looked over his shoulder at Otabek, at the door, and then at Otabek again, and made his decision</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Thanks," he finally said, turning on his heel and making his way back to the booth</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Otabek had started the next volume of the Meg series, glancing up when Yuri returned but not putting the book down</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Let's do it," Yuri finally said, wich actually made Otabek set the book down</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"Let's go to New York together,"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Otabek was quiet, but sometimes more was said with silence than words</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He reached out and wrapped his hand around Yuri's, squeezing gently as the blonde wrapped their fingers together</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Early 2000s pop played on the juke box, but Yuri found that for once, he didn't mind it so much</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Don't you worry your pretty little mind, people throw rocks at things that shine, and life makes love look hard</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The stakes are high, the water's rough, but this love is our's</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p><br/>
<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<p>
  <b>Four weeks later</b>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The only sound between them was rain tapping on the roof of the car, thunder rolling in the distance, the windsheild wipers swiping back and forth, and the low hum of music that neither of them had chosen that played on the radio</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But it was so loud</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It was deafening</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>These things, these quiet things, were enough to drive them both deaf, because with such quiet things around them it made their thoughts so much louder</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>So loud that there was no escaping them</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>But finally, Otabek pulled up to the airport, his gaze drifting to Yuri for a moment as the car was put in park</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"You're really sure huh?"</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Yuri glanced away from the window, quiet for once, and slid his hand into Otabek's, squeezing gently</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>"More sure than I've ever been," he promised, glancing down at the plane tickets settled in his lap</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>New York City, one way</span>
  </em>
</p>
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